Response to John Kelsay, Martin Kavka and Rumee Ahmed
Randi Rashkover, George Mason University
The three papers
presented by John Kelsay, Martin Kavka and Rumee Ahmed dealing with Qur'anic
passages 4:71-91, 8:1 & 41, and Deuteronomy 20 offer rich material for a Scriptural Reasoning consideration of
the meaning of "war" or "fighting" within the Hebrew Scriptures and
Qur'an. In what follows I intend to
respond to each of the three readings of these texts and read and write along
with them.
I. Qur'an 4:75, 8:1 and 41.
John Kelsay's
paper presents a reading of Qu'ran 4:75, 8:1 and 41, which (I will generalize
here but not below) together paint a picture of war or fighting as a process of
discerning and identifying who is and who is not part of a "found" community,
and he says, "Ultimately, we must read Qur'an 4:75 in connection with God's
drive throughout history to form a people willing to walk the straight path.
With Muhammad and his companions, God has found that people, or is in the process
of finding it. It is interesting to note that Kelsay suggests that for the
Qur'an, war is a process and not simply an act of battle. Moreover, Kelsay's
paper suggests that there are two primary moments in the process of war: 1) the
discernment of whether to fight or not according to divine guidance [e.g. 4:75]
and 2) the proper discernment and distribution of war spoils [8.1]. Both
aspects of the war process resonate with the over-arching interest of Sura 4,
which, as Kelsay indicates, is concerned with matters of inheritance and/or
rightful return. Seen from this perspective, war functions as part of a process
of "return" to God. The person who fights or does not fight under the guidance
of God is "returned to" or "found" by God so far as his obedience to God
demonstrates divine possession, and persons who can properly offer up 5% of the
war spoils for God and for the community also demonstrate their understanding
of divine possession and thereby their own belonging to the "found" Islamic
community. War and its processes
disclose who persons really are. War is,
as Kelsay refers to it, "a measure of faithfulness" and therefore contributes to
the development of the "found" Islamic community. Consequently, in Kelsay's account, war operates within and
contributes to a logic that distinguishes firmly between those who are "found"
and those who are "lost," and among the lost are certainly those who hide their
"lostness" or pretend to be found.
II. Deuteronomy 20:1-19
For the time
being, I want to leave this preliminary account of Kelsay's reading and look at
some Hebrew Bible texts, both the Deuteronomy 20 text that Martin Kavka
discusses and Deuteronomy 22:3, to suggest that in these biblical texts there is
no correlative Jewish version of the above question of the "found"
community. More specifically, I'd like
to begin by reading Deut. 20 through the lens of Deut. 22:1-3, which says,
"You shall not see the ox of your brother or
his sheep or goat cast off, and hide yourself from them; you shall surely return
them to your brother . . . So shall you do for his donkey, so shall you do for
his garment, and so shall you do for any lost article of your brother that may
become lost from him and you find it; you shall not hide yourself."
Deuteronomy 22:3 is an interesting text when
in particular compared to both the Mishnaic and Talmudic discussions of it.
According to this text, if a person has lost something and one's brother finds
it, then the brother must "return" the item found to his brother. Unlike the
Mishnaic and Talmudic discussions around Deut. 22 in Bava Metzia, the brother
who "finds" the object does not need to take an oath that he has really found
the object because one has to take an oath only if one does not know who the
original owner is and when there may be another claimant for that same "found"
object. In the Deuteronomic text however, the question of the owner of the
object is not in question. In effect,
the object was never really "lost", since we know to whom it belongs. Such a
case might be read as symbolic of biblical laws regarding property generally
speaking insofar as they expose exactly who owns what and under what conditions
such ownership obtains. Of course, the
cartography of property ownership within the biblical text derives from the fundamental
owner-owned relationship between God and the Jewish people, and God says, "You
will be my treasured possession" (Exodus 19:4). The Jewish people in other words are "found" by and not "lost
to" God. They are found or "returned"
to God when the live according to the law.
With this
scriptural symbol in mind, we can now return to Deuteronomy 20, the text that
Kavka discusses. Deuteronomy 20: 1-19
is noteworthy as a text about war since many of its verses outline either
exemptions from war or processes of peace-making to avoid war.
Kavka reads the exemptions as relating to
persons who are "not fit" for battle. I
read them differently. If we look at the first three exemptions, we see that
they are not based on fitness but rather on possible confusions over property
and rightful ownership. Deuteronomy 20:5-7, "Who is the man who has built a
new house and has not inaugurated it? Let him go and return to this house, lest
he die in the war and another man will inaugurate it. And who is the man who
has planted a vineyard and not redeemed it? Let him go and return to his house,
lest he die in the war and another man will redeem it . . .
And who is the man who has betrothed a woman
and not married her? Let him go and return to his house, lest he die in the war
and another man will marry her." In each of these instances, going to war could
potentially compromise the rightful ownership-property relationship. Going to
war could potentially compromise "who the fighter is" as owner and confuse him
with another person. Unlike the reading
of the Qur'anic account above which indicates that going to war names or labels
a person as part of the Muslim community, it appears here that going to war
should not be permitted to compromise an already established system of owner
identification or what are the contours of the "found" Israelite community
within the law.
The issue becomes
even more noteworthy in the case of the "fearful man" who as Rabbi Yose HaGlili
suggests is the "sinful man" ("Who is the man who is fearful and fainthearted?
Let him go and return to his house, and let him not melt the heart of his
fellows, like his heart." (Deut. 20:8).
It is because he is sinful that he is afraid that he will die in battle
as punishment for his sins. Not only does
the Torah indicate that this man need not fight, but, according to Rashi, it
suggests that within the context of the other exemptions, the very reasons for
his exemption may be disguised by the exemptions of the above property holders.
He may, in other words, pretend to be a property holder of the above sort.
Such pretending, I would like to suggest,
can be construed as as an act of "return" ("teshuvah").
The sinful man is invited to sit under the
comfort and protection of the law. One may, we could say, hide in the law,
because hiding in the law returns one to God.
If we take this further, we might say that persons who are covered by
the law may not be really righteous, or that among those who live within the law
there are both righteous and unrighteous but they are all offered protection
insofar as the law returns them to God.
Of course this reading of Deuteronomy 20 stands in contrast to Kelsay's reading of the Qur'an
insofar as the Deuteronomic text does not indicate that war is a process of
discerning who is and who is not
Jew/Israelite. This does not mean, however, that war may not be a process
whereby the Israelite discerns the identity of the non-Jew. In Deuteronomy
20:10, the Israelites are commanded to present a peaceful solution to the
non-Jew as part of the process of war. There is a difference of opinion on this
verse between Rashi and Maimonides as to whether the Israelites should always
offer peace or only in the instances of an offensive war outside the land of
Israel. The biblical text, however, is
unclear on this point and therefore privileges Maimonides' more expansive
reading wherein the Israelites must always extend the possibility of peace to
the non-Jew in the situation. With this
offer of peace, the Israelite attempts to identify the character of the non-Jew
and discern therefore what his/her relation to the Israelite/Jew actually is.
Before leaving
the discussion of Deuteronomy 20, there is one more important
question/consideration to add to this reading. What impact does a diasporic
reality have on this account?
First-order consideration of this question exposes two important elements to a
diasporic consideration of this text. First, if there is no war to save the
land because there is no land, then there is also a loss of property ownership
conditions within the land and a significant loss of Jewish identity as much as
Israelite identity is determined by property ownership within the land. In
other words, diasporic Judaism poses a challenge to Jewish identity. Second, in
the diaspora we are all like the sinful man. According to
rabbinic Judaism, the Jews were exiled from
the land on account of their collective sin.
Consequently, like the sinful man, we too look for protection under the
law. However, our quest for protection under the law is far more tenuous and
potentially much less rewarding because much of the law whose protection we
seek is suspended within the diasporic condition and to a large extent
we look to be protected by a law that is not
fully protecting. Such is the humble and precarious spiritual situation of
post-exilic Judaism. Not only are the
Jews within the law a mixture of the righteous and the unrighteous, but they
dwell within a less than fully protective law.
What a big difference the diaspora makes to the "foundness" and sense of
return with God available to the pre-exilic Israelite community.
III. Back to the Qur'an
Thus far, I have
earmarked a difference between a reading of Deuteronomy 20 on the meaning of
the process of war and Kelsay's Durkheimian account of war as a measure of an
authentic Islamic community found by God.
A closer reading of the Qur'anic texts, however, along with Kelsay and
Ahmed's reflections, indicates that there is more going on in this analysis of
war than the identification of war as a measure of faithfulness. Ahmed's paper
helps to identify the problem. In the context of what Ahmed refers to as a
universalist reading of Qur'an 4:75, he notes the logical implications
operating within the text itself. There
are, he reminds us, three fundamental nouns in the text ; 1) rescuer (you all),
2) wretched and 3) city (oppressors). Discussing the identity of the city in
particular, Ahmed indicates the obvious - namely that the city housing the
"wretched" cannot be one's own city,
since this would mean that the rescuer would be "either the wretched, in
which case the reader is not being addressed,
or an oppressor, in which case the reader is an object rather than the
subject, of the address." The reader, Ahmed says, is "constantly being sent out
of her hometown to try to aid the wretched." But Ahmed goes further with this
interesting line of thought and notes that the text does not advocate fighting
to aid the wretched in toppling an oppressive regime.
Rather, the text indicates that the wretched are praying for
deliverance out of the regime into the "city of the addressee, a seemingly utopian [emphasis mine] society without
oppression or wretchedness". In view of
these factors it appears that the Qur'an advocates fighting by those who live
without oppression in their midst for the purpose of emancipating and literally
moving the wretched out of this environment.
The rescuer is not the wretched and the wretched is not the rescuer and
what distinguishes them is precisely whether they dwell amidst oppression and
need removal from this or not. This
version of Ahmed's reading is further nuanced by what he refers to as his
particularist reading. Read as a text about the historical community of Islam
in the period of oppression within Mecca and migration to Medina, we learn not
only that the wretched must be taken out of the oppressive society but that in
fact the oppressive society is oppressive as polytheistic.
What is it that makes them wretched? We
learn that, as Ahmed shows us in verses 97-98, "wretchedness is not measured by
property or subjugation, but by mobility." That is, the people in Mecca were
wretched because they could not leave Medina.
Like the universalist reading, the wretched are those who must journey
away from the place of their wretchedness but cannot. But what about the nature
of the oppression suffered? Read historically, Ahmed suggests we learn that
Muslims fleeing Mecca were by force of the treaty of Hudaybiyah, required to be
sent back. According to the historical account
however, the Meccans betrayed this treaty and with this betrayal of the treaty,
Mohammed was a small time later commanded to fight them. The switch derives,
Ahmed suggests, from the Meccans' disregard for divine guidance.
The oppressor is, in other words, the
polytheist, and it is incumbent upon those who dwell in non-polytheistic
environments to emancipate those who dwell within these environments.
The import of
this review of Ahmed's two readings rests in the question posed by them.
If the text distinguishes between the
rescuer and the wretched and if the wretched are those who dwell amidst
non-believers, this would suggest that the rescuer may only dwell among pure
believers. But, as Ahmed suggests, the rescuer is to lead the wretched out of the
city of oppression into a "utopian" environment of pure belief.
But is not such an environment, well,
utopian? Does not Ahmed's reading force
us to wonder whether or not war can be justified in this context at all, given
that the rescuer's community is ideal at best? At the very least, Ahmed's
reading forces us to ask where this "ideal" community might be? With this we
return to Kelsay's original reading and recognize that this question looms
within Kelsay's account of war as a cultivating measure of faithfulness for a
found community. More specifically,
Ahmed's paper helps to reveal a hidden polemic within Kelsay's account.
What do I mean?
IV. An Islamic-Jewish Polemic?
We begin to see
this hidden polemic in Qur'an 3:103-110. Here we see two important points: 1)
Believers can become unbelievers: "how could you reject your faith after
believing", and, 2) those who potentially reject their faith after believing may
be in fact, the "people of the Book":
"Do not be like those who, after they have been give clear revelation,
split into factions and fall into disputes . . . On the Day when some faces
brighten and other darken, it will be said to those with darkened faces, 'how
could you reject your faith after believing?'."
Professor Kelsay does not read this text as an Islamic-Jewish
polemic, but he does argue that the question concerning the hypocrite is one of
the motivations for techniques like fighting and burial of the dead and fasting
which are used for discerning the measure of faithfulness. If, however, we read
Qur'an 3:103-110 in view of Ahmed's analysis, we might ask whether or not the
Qur'an is questioning 1) whether a believer is really a believer and/or 2) whether
a Jew or a Christian can be a believer.
Can one be a Muslim and still be lost? Can one be a Jew and/or a
Christian and be "found"?
Let's go
further. Read in view of the above account of Deut. 20, it would appear that
both the Hebrew Bible and the Qur'an agree that the Jew can "hide" behind the
law. The fundamental difference exposed, however, is that from a Jewish
perspective the Jew rightfully hides behind the law since such hiding grafts
her into the order of divine possession whereas according to a Qur'anic
perspective, a Jewish hiding behind the law is inadequate if the believer is
not fully exposed in this hiding. Said otherwise, the notion implicit in the
above Jewish account that in fact, one may be a "sinner" and "protected by the
law" seems to be called into question by Sura 3:103-110. We now recognize an
Islamic-Jewish polemic regarding what kind of Jew can officially count as part
of a "found" Muslim community.
Still, such a
polemic between Jew and Muslim reflects the same confusion within the Muslim
community over who is really a "believer" and who is not. Jews are not the only
ones who can hide, it seems. Are there, in other words, any non-wretched
Muslims, any Muslims who live free from polytheists in their midst? Aren't
Muslims always amidst polytheists (either from without or from within) and if
so, does this mean that they are not "properly returned" to God?
Finally, we may
now re-read Kelsay's account of how war produces a process of discerning the
"measure of faithfulness". Recall, as I
mentioned above, Kelsay earmarks two aspects of war that discern faithfulness:
1) fighting or not and 2) distribution of war spoils (i.e. returning to God and
the Godly community what belongs to them.)
But why are there two tests? Why
not just one? Two tests, we might hypothesize, are required for a full
discernment of who is or is not a "true believer".
It is conceivable that one might go to war at the right time and
appear to be a "true believer" but not be willing to give 5% of the spoils to
the God-community. But might the same not be said for the second test as well? Might
one be willing to distribute the spoils properly but not follow through in
another instance of divine command? Does not the presence of two tests suggest
some doubt about how many tests one needs in order to demonstrate the "true
believer"? Maybe, we might posit that
this produces a sort of uncertainty regarding identity within the Islamic
sensibility - an uncertainty that in fact appears rather similar to the
uncertainty surrounding the identity of the diasporic Jew who does not know if
she is protected and "found" in the law or not?
If this is true, might this confusion and uncertainty about
"being truly found in God" act as a provocative point of dialogue between
Muslims and Jews?
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